


Mama Thor

by orphan_account



Category: Marvel
Genre: AU, but I did, fffuck, i cant ebelieve i actually fucki;gn wrote this, i cant fuckin believe it, its fucckin mama!thor bitchachos, mama!thor, ok, please rememebr THIS IS NOT A SERIOUS FIC, take it away, what the fuck is this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-17
Updated: 2014-08-17
Packaged: 2018-02-13 13:15:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2152104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Mama?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mama Thor

**Author's Note:**

> what the fuck did i do. what the fuck

Thor, God of Thunder. He with lightning at his fingertips and the roar of a thousand storms at the back of his throat. He with the power to bring even the mightiest foes to their quivering knees with fear. He who wields Mjolnir, the hammer only the worthiest of them all, gods and mortals and everything outside of and between, can lift. Thor, the Avenger and the God and the warrior for all those without.

This Thor, the mighty Thor, is who the general public knows.

The Thor they don't know, however, is Thor Odinson, roommate to Darcy Lewis and Jane Foster on Midgard, prince and heir to the throne on Asgard, and mother to Chucky on both.

Right. So...weird sentence, right? Yeah. Right. Let me start from the beginning, and you'll understand. For the most part, at least.

It began as a normal mission for the Avengers. Teach a group of petty alien thugs that were harrassing a small American town their lesson, drag them back to S.H.I.E.L.D so they could be taught it again in a much less violent manner, then go back to Tony's for jacuzzis and take-out. The usual. And for the first part it was everything Thor expected; he didn't even need to break a sweat. But then a young human, around 12 Midgard years of age, he judged, with dark cloth wrapped around her head, pulled him to the side and whispered, "Come with me." 

Looking down into her golden-skinned face, he saw no bad intentions, and so he followed. She took him to a small, inconspicious house in a small, inconspicious neighborhood, so much so you would almost think it to be abandoned if not for the few people littering the sidewalks, and introduced him to a group of five women, similar to her in both features and the cloth around their heads but not age. As they stood in the bare room, empty but for a few pieces of old furniture, the women explained, and he listened.

They were not real humans, not real mortals - they were gods, like him, goddesses really, of an alien planet far off in the galaxy. They had been sent to Midgard to keep an eye on godly activity, and alert other gods, warrior gods, if any trouble were afoot. That was what they were doing now, they sakd, why they had called him away. They needed his help.

"They considered us mere Muslims, and we considered them mere juveniles, and so they slipped right by," One woman said. "At the time, we considered sending Lia here to follow them, but thought the thugs that you have just dealt to a bigger threat. Oh, how wrong we were."

"What exactly did these...juveniles, you call them, do?"

Another spoke up this time, an older looking woman. "They are not juveniles, not really; they are gods, nasty, sly gods of a dark planet. They came here to steal a sacrifice."

"A sacrifice?"

"It's a ritual on their planet that every year, a newborn child from another planet must be sacrificed," This woman had been crying, and sniffed between sentences. "This year, it was Earth's turn. We had been preparing for their arrival, but had expected to see through any disguises they put up. Obviously, we didn't."

"And so you wish me to...steal back what has been stolen?"

"Yes," said the eldest woman. "It may seem like fighting fire with fire, but this 'sacrifice' is not just. It is merely greed killing, killing for the sake of smearing your lips with the blood. After all, they are the gods of that planet - who do they need to sacrifice to?"

The women handed him a picture of the stolen Midgardians - a mother and her baby, both with dark complexion, both with frizzy black hair, even in small tufts on the baby's head. Thor, mighty Thor, was not one to let a deed go undone, or at least unseen, and so he set off to the small, dark planet of which the gods came from. But he was not sure whether the goddesses were on the side of justice - surely they believed they were telling the truth, believed they were doing good, but was he only hearing one side of the story?

It was as he arrived at the planet, before he even landed, as he entered the atmosphere and felt his nostrils begin to burn with the stench of smoke, that he realized there was no question about it. There was no possibility of 'another story'. The goddesses were right. These were greed killings, violent and bloody killings, worst of all pointless killings.

These were pure, straight-up massacres.

The entire planet was black and red and bleeding, covered in debris and destruction, burning in places, emitting the kind of smoke that you could still feel choking you even after you escaped it. Thor was not even sure if civilians lived on this planet, but he did not stop to check - he just sped away to where he had been told, and where he knew in his gut, he would find the gods.

The tallest, blackest, most violent looking structure on the entire planet, one thay stuck out from everything else even on this planet where everything looked equally murderous. This is where they were.

Inside, the building was set up like an ampitheatre. The gods sat around in a ring watching the Midgardians cower, throwing sticks and stones at them occasionally. They weren't much bigger than the Misgardians themselves, nasty, hunched, slimy and black little things. He did not hesitate to crash through and begin to deal to them immediately, howling "In the name of all that is good, I demand you vile creatures surrender!" as he did. The Midgardian and her child froze in the ring, watching as he swung his hammer, again and again, as it cracked and crunched and broke the bodies of the alien gods easily. They were not gods, however, he had decided, but instead monsters. Horrible, destructive, merciless monsters. And so he would treat them as they had chosen to treat others.

Blinded in his vengeance, Thor did not see the monster behind the woman, snarling and, he could swear, smiling, until it was too late. He ran towards her, managing to scoop the baby out of her hands but just missing the woman herself, and watched helplessly as she was crushed between the jaws of the monster, killed instantly in a burst of blood and guts and bones. Laying down the child, he let out a roar and leaped at the monster, swinging with his hammer, killing it, killing the last one. The last one.

Blood dripped from all around. From him, from his hammer, from the room. And he wasn't sure whether it was monster or human blood. He walked over to the child, lying there, wrapped in a stained blue blanket, and picked her up. She was tiny, so tiny, barely bigger than his own hand. And now, because of these monsters, because of his mistake in not watching catefully, she had nothing. But of course she didn't know that, wrapped up in her little baby world, her little comfort blanket. But she would.

As he peered down at her, her tiny, tiny arm wiggled out of a gap in her blanket. It reached up and tiny, tiny, tiny fingers squeezed the very tip of his nose.

And that was his introduction to Chucky.

 

He had never intended to adopt her, but when he returned to Midgard with her and told the goddesses what had happened, they informed him that he was correct, that now she really did have no one; for her mother had been her only known family; and no one in the neighborhood would take her, due to them barely scraping by themselves; and a foster home was an option, but the system here wasn't good, and there was no knowing what kind of person she would end up with. So Thor took her back with him, back to his Midgardian home, only as a temporary measure, he told himself, until there Jane and Darcy fell in love with her, and so too did the Avengers and everyone else who saw her, and so it became a permanent thing. Eventually he took her to Asgard and everyone there, from the workers to the highest gods themselves, adored her, and soon he had gifts flooding in, of clothes and cribs and diapers and books and more things than he would have ever thought you needed to raise a child. It left him astonished.

But honestly? There was a warm feeling growing in the pit of his stomach. For he, too, adored the small child, adored her like a father - or a mother, as she seemed to see him.

Her first word was 'chuk', which she said consistently for a good few weeks of her life, and so that became her name, which with the help of Darcy and Jane evolved in 'Chucky'. Her next word was 'Mama', which she only referred to Thor as. Many tried to correct her, tried to tell her that he was her father, not her mother, but she ignored them and continued to call him 'Mama'. Thor didn't mind, even despite the good-natured teasing he got at the feasting table about it. For all he cared, she could call him, and anyone else, whatever she pleased. She had never been a normal child, never had a chance, and so he saw it as only her right to live how she wanted.

Or maybe he was just a biased mother who spoiled their child and let them get away with too much.

Either way, he knew one thing for certain. That no matter where or what it was, he wiuld always answer her call. Chucky's call.

"Mama?"


End file.
